Hold Tight, My Heart is Racing
by Chrmdpoet
Summary: Karma is curled in a ball on Amy's bed, wrapped around Amy's pillow, auburn hair cascading over it and dangling off the side of the bed. And she is crying, really crying, like the kind of crying that makes Amy's heart clench so hard in her chest that she wants to shout with the pain of it.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Written for one of my Two-Word Tumblr Prompts, using the words "after camping". (This takes place post S2 mid-season finale, post Amy's camping trip.) Enjoy! XO-Chrmdpoet**

Hold Tight, My Heart is Racing

Chapter One

Amy is barely inside her house when her Mom catches her by the arm.

"Amy," she says, expression somehow sad, hopeful, and serious all at once, "Karma's here."

"She is?" Amy asks, surprised.

Her mother nods and glances toward the stairs. "She's been here about an hour. I told her you hadn't gotten back from your campin' trip with Reagan yet, but she said she wanted to wait."

Amy doesn't know why but her heart races to the point of pain as she takes the stairs two at a time to her room. She stops just outside her bedroom door and sniffs herself. She still smells like the woods and campfire and sex.

Maybe Karma will be cool to wait while she gets a quick shower.

The thought dwindles and dies when she hears a muffled sob echo from inside her room. She throws open the door a second later, worried.

"Karma?" she says, inching inside, because Karma is curled in a ball on Amy's bed, wrapped around Amy's pillow, auburn hair cascading over it and dangling off the side of the bed. And she is crying, really crying, like the kind of crying that makes Amy's heart clench so hard in her chest that she wants to shout with the pain of it.

She inches her way toward the bed, because for some reason she can't make herself move any faster, like Karma is a wary animal in the wilderness and Amy is terrified of scaring her off. She feels like she has already done enough damage to last them a lifetime.

She eventually makes it to the bed, lowers onto the edge, and rests a hand on Karma's shoulder.

"Karma," she whispers, shaking her gently.

Karma doesn't say anything, and Amy feels a lump rise higher and higher in her throat, choking her. She carefully collects the wave of Karma's hair and flips it over Karma's head so that tear-stained cheeks and quivering lips become visible, and finally, Karma looks at her.

"What's wrong?" Amy whispers. The pain in Karma's eyes is enough to steal her breath. She struggles to catch it again when Karma lets out a ragged sigh and swipes her hand across her eyes and down her cheek.

"I slept with Liam," she croaks, and Amy hates the way it stings and stings and never seems to stop. She wonders if that will ever fade or if fifty years down the road, a part of her will still be pining for Karma, even as they both love someone else, someone new. She thinks maybe that's _exactly_ what it will be like.

"O-oh," Amy replies. "Okay, um, was it bad or something?"

"No, Amy," Karma huffs, and it borders on another sob as she pushes herself into a sitting position, strands of hair sticking to her wet cheek on one side.

Amy starts to reply, but Karma shakes her head, her face straining with the pressure of tears and sobs that Amy can see wobbling in her throat and pricking at her eyes. She has always been able to read Karma's body like a book. She knows the way she operates, knows the signs and how to read them.

What she doesn't know is the turmoil brewing inside her best friend, until Karma sucks in a shuddering gasp and raggedly cries, "I'm so stupid."

Amy catches Karma's hand as it reaches for her, pressing to her chest. Amy holds it there, just over her heart, which is racing so fast that she fears it might just leap right up her throat and take off running. "What? Karma, no. Why would you even say that?"

"I _am_, Amy," Karma cries. "I'm so stupid, and I've been so blind, and I'm _so_ confused, and I can't ... I don't know what to do!"

"About what?" Amy asks, her voice strained and cracking. She has never been able to watch Karma cry without it shredding her to bits. She always ends up a blubbering mess, sometimes worse than Karma, which is just ridiculous but usually makes for lightening the mood when she makes fun of herself for it.

She chokes now, chokes on the burning sensation in her throat. She can feel the tears pricking in her own eyes. Her stomach is protesting Karma's pain, and she doesn't even know what Karma's pain _is_ other than the obvious my-best-friend-and-former-kind-of-still-boyfriend-cheated-on-me-with-each-other-and-then-lied-about-it pain. Then again, that was probably enough crying material to last a while.

"About _you,_" Karma sobs, pressing her palm harder against Amy's chest, like she is trying to push through her flesh and through her bones and wrap around her heart. "About me. About Liam. About everything."

"Karma, I—" Amy tries, but she doesn't understand. She thought they were good. She thought things were going to get better. She thought they were back on track. She thought so many things that now seem only shaky at best. "I don't know what you mean. I wanna help you, but I don't know what you need."

Karma holds her gaze, and Amy feels the air thicken around them. A buzzing stirs around her ears and a strange, sick sort of heat washes over her body when Karma then blurts, "I lied to you. When I said I didn't love you like that, I lied."

Amy's mouth moves wordlessly. Her heart stutters in her chest, stops for just a second, and then kicks back into gear, harder and faster even than before. Amy feels her flesh prickle. Her lungs squeeze roughly and burn around the breath she's holding. She thinks she might pass out.

"Only I didn't _know_ I was lying," Karma tells her, flipping her hand and wrapping it tightly around Amy's atop the blonde's chest before Amy can yank it away or make any move at all. "I didn't know I ... I didn't know, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, because I'm so confused and you're moving on, and I shouldn't be doing this to you, but Amy ..."

Karma sobs and presses her other hand over her mouth until the wet, harsh breath passes. She swipes at her eyes. "You're my best friend," she whispers, and it's so quiet that it barely caresses Amy's ears.

It stings all the same, and then it soothes, and then it stings again.

Karma squeezes her hand and takes a deep breath. "I don't know what to do."

Amy holds her gaze and says nothing. She is frozen.

But her heart never stops racing.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Amy's head buzzes like there is static in her brain, Karma's confession having short-circuited her system somehow. Her body feels sickly hot, like the kind of hot that happened when she was nine and had a 103-degree fever and couldn't tell if anything was reality or a hallucination. Her fingertips tingle against Karma's hand, the other girl's grip so tight and desperate that Amy worries for her circulation. Her throat constricts but she forces down a thick swallow and appreciates the way it burns all the way down, because the sting snaps her back into the moment.

She stares at Karma and Karma stares back at her, eyes wide and fraught with a million emotions Amy doesn't even want to contemplate despite the fact that she feels them too, all whirling around inside her like a storm she has no hope of weathering. She wants to say something, anything, to alleviate the tension filling the air, but her body doesn't seem to want to cooperate. Her voice feels stuck in her throat like a piece of hard candy intent on choking her to death, and she is fairly certain that attempting to string a sentence together would only result in disaster.

Amy really can't afford another disaster where Karma is concerned. She is afraid they won't survive it.

So when Karma somehow manages to squeeze her already numb hand even harder and whispers, "Please say something," Amy thinks she might pass out or throw up or maybe both at the same time.

"I …" she tries and mentally pats herself on the back for getting the single syllable out, but worries about the rest of the sentence. She doesn't even know what the rest of the sentence is yet.

She chews on her bottom lip and continues to stare, wide-eyed, at Karma.

"Do you hate me?" Karma asks after another achingly long silence, and Amy is thankful for the question despite how much it pains her, because it shakes her enough to yank her from this strange, stupid, what-the-hell-is-happening trance she is in.

"Karma, no," she chokes out, and the words are thick in her throat and on her tongue, but they are audible and clear, and that is enough for Amy. "You know I could never hate you."

Karma swallows thickly and Amy watches the way her throat works. It's weird how strangely erotic it is, and Amy mentally berates herself for thinking anything about this moment or Karma is erotic when she has a girlfriend, but then again, Amy promised herself she would never live in denial again. Karma is crazy beautiful and definitely erotic. That is just a fact, and Amy really shouldn't feel guilty for acknowledging facts.

What the hell is she on about? Amy shakes her head to clear away the rambling thoughts and refocuses on Karma's expression. It's tight, strained, worried, and Amy feels all those things in her gut and in her bones.

"You just don't love me anymore?" Karma asks, and Amy feels her heart drop down into her stomach and sizzle painfully.

"Of course I love you," Amy tells her. "I always have." Her lips quiver around those words, because the truth in them somehow suddenly seems more magnified and visceral than ever before. "I always will."

Karma sighs and nods, finally releasing Amy's hand to wipe at her eyes again. "Just not like _that_," she whispers. Her long hair swings a bit as she shakes her head and lets her chin fall to her chest. She resituates herself on Amy's bed and Amy realizes that she's trying to distance herself, put some space between them, let them both breathe.

Amy doesn't know if she more appreciates or loathes it; maybe a bit of both. She scoots fully onto the mattress and bunches her feet up under her. She picks at the surface of her comforter with her fingers and glances back and forth between her hands and Karma's now immense effort to avoid her eyes.

"Karma," she starts, surprised to hear herself talking without being prompted, but instead of feeling stuck on what to say, words are suddenly bubbling up in her throat, "you're just confused. You said so yourself, so how do you even know that you feel that way about me?"

"I just _know_, Amy," Karma mutters, staring at the bed, her chin resting atop her knees as she wraps her arms around them.

"Yeah, but," Amy argues, "it wasn't that long ago that you just _knew _you _didn't _love me like that. So, what's different now? I mean, nothing has really changed, so wh—"

"No, you're wrong," Karma interrupts, huffing out a hard sigh. "_Everything _has changed, okay? We almost _broke up_, Amy! Me and you … we almost fell apart, and nothing, literally _nothing _in my life has ever scared me more than that, and I know that it was my decision and I was the one who was angry, but it doesn't mean I wasn't just as scared or as hurt as you were."

"I know," Amy whispers, "but—"

"And you just, you just," Karma stutters, her face scrunching up like she's confused or like she can't decide if she wants to cry or shout or just explode. "You just _changed _things," she finally manages to say, and Amy gapes at her.

"Because of what happened with Liam?" she asks, confused. "Is that how I changed things?"

"_No,_" Karma sighs. "I mean, _yes, _but no, that's not it. It was what you said."

Amy's heart starts to race again. "What I said?"

"When we were in jail," Karma clarifies. "You just said all these things, all these like _big, romantic _things, and then I just couldn't stop thinking about it, about you and about us, about our whole entire lives together."

Karma's voice quavers and Amy thinks she feels the tremors right down to her soul.

"Maybe you just got caught up in the moment?" Amy tries but Karma shakes her head.

"We've been together since we were five, Amy," Karma whispers. "We used to take _baths _together. We used to kiss on the mouth like the way we kissed our dolls or our moms, and it never seemed important or strange because we just loved each other. Kisses never mattered until we started faking being lesbians and suddenly there were feelings and implications and I don't know, hormones or whatever. You understood that right away, but I was just too obsessed with this idea of getting together with the hottest guy in school that I didn't think anything of it."

"Karma …"

"Amy, in my whole life, _you've _held me more than anyone," Karma croaks, "more than even my parents and you know how much they love to hug."

Amy's throat burns and she feels her eyes sting with tears. It doesn't take long for them to bubble up and over as she nods to acknowledge the truth of Karma's words. "I know," she whispers, and Karma finally looks up at her.

There are fresh tears on Karma's cheeks and love in her eyes and the saddest smile Amy has ever seen painted across her lips, and it somehow hurts and soothes Amy all at once.

"You've been the most constant love in my life since I was a little girl," Karma tells her, "so I never thought anything of it. It never seemed like a big deal or like it meant anything, because it was just _there, _you know? Amy Raudenfeld—best friend, love of my life. It was just true, just a part of me, just as easy and natural as having red hair or loving ice cream."

Amy laughs wetly because what else can she do? She is caught in this moment with Karma, feeling Karma's words ripple over her and through her and she knows they're true. She thinks maybe nothing else has ever been truer.

"And you said all that stuff," Karma continues, voice scratchy but still beautiful, "and everything just seemed to suddenly snap into place." She sighs and wipes her cheeks. "So, of course, I panicked and went straight to Liam. I …" She hesitates, looking away for a moment and licking her lips, before continuing in a whisper. "I thought of _you _the whole time, and then when I fell asleep, I dreamt about you."

Amy feels a rush of heat ripple through her belly and between her legs, and she curses her body for not being able to recognize the gravity of this moment and keep it together. "What did you dream about?" she asks, and she flushes when she hears her own voice, throaty and raw and thickly coated.

"You," Karma tells her, her own cheeks painted a bright pink, "with Reagan."

Amy jolts, eyebrows shooting toward her hairline. "O-oh," she stutters, "um …" She isn't sure how to respond to that, but before she can try, Karma starts again.

"And then with me," the other girl whispers, and Amy hears the heat in Karma's voice. It's the same heat that Amy feels in the base of her spine and between her legs. Oh fuck.

"And then with Liam," Karma adds, the words cutting and angry.

An icy chill blasts right through Amy's chest, and suddenly she isn't so hot anymore. "Oh," she whispers. "Karma, I—"

"No, don't," Karma stops her, shaking her head. "Don't apologize. It's not your fault what I dream about, and besides, I think it was just because, you know, everything that happened and feeling like I couldn't trust you or whatever."

"Yeah," Amy whispers. "Still, I just … I feel terrible, Karma."

"I know you do," Karma replies, and they stare at each other with sad eyes, and Amy has the sudden urge to pull Karma into her arms and never let go, like maybe they could just hold each other and everything else would fall away and disappear the way it always seemed to when they were little. "But you don't have to. I know it was a mistake, and you're sorry, and I … I _do _forgive you, but that's not what I came here for. I came here because I couldn't keep this from you. I didn't want to. I'm not asking you to feel anything for me or to say anything even. I just needed to tell you, because you're my best friend and I don't want us to have secrets."

Amy nods. "Yeah," she mutters, "I think secrets just end up hurting more than helping."

"Yeah," Karma agrees, and then the silence seeps in on them again.

Amy fiddles with the comforter again and wonders what the hell she is supposed to do now or what she is supposed to say or how she is even supposed to feel. Her head is a conflicted mess but nowhere near as conflicted as her heart, because this is what she wanted. This is everything she wanted before Reagan came along, but it didn't happen, and then Reagan _did _come along, and now everything is just so strained and confusing and awkward and painful but also thrilling in some strange sort of way that Amy doesn't understand but accepts anyway.

"Are you sure?" Amy asks after the silence becomes too much for her to bear and maybe also because she just really needs some solid confirmation before she can make any decisions or feel any concrete emotions. "About how you feel about me," she clarifies when Karma looks up at her again. "Are you sure that's how you feel, Karma, because maybe you're just confused because I've never been with anyone before and now I am and you're feeling, I don't know, territorial or something?"

Karma holds her gaze. "I'm sure."

"But maybe yo—"

"I want you," Karma whispers so hotly that Amy feels her stomach cave in and her breath slam from her lungs. "Amy, I … I _want _you."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Amy's breath slams from her lungs as Karma's words wash over her and press into her skin like searing irons, branding her with promises Amy has longed to fill now for longer than she even cares to contemplate. Her body trembles in the wake of those words dusted with Karma's soft voice and accented with Karma's burning gaze, and Amy feels like someone just reached inside her and switched her settings to vibrate. Either that or she is actually dreaming and might wake up any second, so maybe she should revel in it. Maybe she should flee. Maybe she should stop thinking and just _be _here.

"Karma," she breathes, and she wonders if she even makes a sound, because her tongue feels too thick for her mouth and her ears are ringing with a high-pitched whine that makes it seem like the world around her has suddenly been muted and all she hears is the whine and the amplified rhythm of her breathing and her swallows and her pounding heart.

And then she feels Karma's touch, fingertips having slipped through the small space between them. Amy looks down and sees them timidly touching her ankle where her legs are folded together in front of her. They press gently and then slip upward, closer. They skim over Amy's thigh, and Amy thinks she might be on the verge of melting into a giant puddle and Karma will have involuntarily committed murder.

Amy drags her gaze up from Karma's timid, exploring fingers and locks onto Karma's eyes instead. Karma's face is a mess of emotions, and Amy can read them all. She sees Karma's curiosity, her hope, her fear, her trepidation, her desire, and god her love, her love, her love. It's so clear in her eyes that it makes Amy ache.

She feels Karma's fingers slip up to her hip and then her full hand slides around to cup Amy's hip bone. Karma scoots closer on the bed, closer until she's only a breath away, her wide eyes still fixed on Amy's. Her hand slips higher, gripping Amy's side, then higher and higher. It skims over Amy's breast and they both shudder, and then up over her collarbone and along the slender slide of her neck. The movement is so slow, the touch so tender, and Amy feels it in all her cells, in all her parts.

"Amy," Karma whispers, leaning in as her hand finally slips around Amy's cheek. Her thumb swipes over Amy's jawline and bottom lip, and Amy is frozen in place.

She knows she should move. She knows she should say something. She knows she should stop this, because she can't do this, not now, not with Karma, not anymore … not _yet_. But she can't move. She can't even breathe, and Karma's eyes are so wide and so hopeful, and Amy falls into them like she's falling down the rabbit hole, and everything is tumbling and twirling and her stomach is flipping, and then …

Colors burst behind Amy's eyelids as they slam shut, like Karma's lips pressing to hers is some sort of celebration. Amy finds it odd and thrilling and so terribly damning the way this always seems to happen with Karma and only Karma, and it's _more_ now. It's brighter. It's more colorful. It echoes through her entire body in vibrations and breathlessness, because this time, it means something to _both of them. _

This time, it means _everything_.

Amy feels her eyes sting behind her eyelids and then she feels Karma's thumbs swiping across her cheeks, smearing the wetness of tears she hadn't even realized she was crying. Her throat feels tight, her lips strained but pliant under Karma's, and Karma is whispering reassurances between hot, soft presses.

"It's okay," Karma whispers, kissing her like nothing has ever been more okay than this kiss and this moment. "It's okay."

Amy lets out a guttural sob as she grabs Karma's cheeks and pulls her in harder, deeper, and kisses her the way she had always wanted to, the way she had always planned to but had been too afraid to carry out, and there is _nothing_ timid about it.

The sound that escapes Karma and vibrates against Amy's lips makes Amy's thighs quake and her pulse shoot straight from the lump in her throat down to her stomach and further still to the growing ache between her legs. She lets her body burst open and bloom with the feeling, and before she even realizes what she is doing, Amy's hands are slipping up into Karma's silky auburn hair and Amy's body is pressing into Karma's, pushing her down to crash atop the bed in a pool of Amy's pillows.

Her knee slips between Karma's thighs, and there's nothing but heat there and everywhere. It coils in the pit of Amy's stomach as she grinds down into and against Karma without even thinking, because it's all just instinct and bottled-up months of unrequited _everything_, and Karma's fierce grip in her hips, jerking her down and forward, only drives her to move faster and harder.

Karma sucks her bottom lip hard enough for it to hurt, but Amy thinks it's the hottest, most incredible pain she's ever felt and she moans. The sound rumbles up from deep in her chest until it vibrates across her tongue and against Karma's teeth, and when Karma smiles in response, Amy thinks she might just explode right then.

Amy jerks back, realization slamming hard into her gut, and pulls her hands off of Karma's body like she's been burned, though her knee remains firmly pressed against the heat between Karma's thighs.

Karma looks up at her, dazed and messy and swollen, and Amy thinks she's never seen anything or anyone more beautiful, but she still has to stop. She can't do this, not in this way, not while she still has a girlfriend.

Karma licks her lips and her hands fall to rest on the tops of Amy's thighs. "Whoa," she whispers, and Amy simultaneously wants to laugh and cry because of it, because that's _her _line, because that's _so completely them, _because everything is so twisted and backward and wrong and right.

"That was _so_ hot," Karma groans.

"Karma," Amy pants, shaking her head. "I can't." She gapes, though, when Karma's words sink in a second later. "Wait, really?" she asks, a hint of a smile pulling at her lips and growing when Karma looks at her, all smoldering eyes and seduction, and nods, and the urge to dive down and continue strikes Amy like a battering ram to the chest. She shakes her head before she can lurch forward and regains her resolve. "No, no," she mutters. "I can't. Karma, I can't."

Karma nods, licking her lips. She pushes up into a sitting position and scoots away to put some distance between them. "Right," she croaks, breathing raggedly. "Right. You're right. You have a girlfriend."

"Right," Amy whispers, eyes drawn to the slide of Karma's tongue over a swollen bottom lip, "so I can't do this with you."

Karma nods, but her eyes fill with hope as she asks, "But you _want _to … right, Amy?"

Amy closes her eyes and groans. "Karma, please," she whispers.

"Right, sorry," Karma says quickly, swiping the back of her hand across her mouth and running her fingers through her hair to tame it. "Sorry. I'm sorry, Amy. I didn't mean for this to happen."

"You didn't?" Amy asks.

"Of course not," Karma insists. She reaches out and grabs Amy's hand and squeezes it. "Amy, I would never deliberately try to ruin your relationship. I mean, I know I've done some selfish things recently—"

"We both have," Amy interjects, and Karma smiles sadly and nods.

"But I didn't want to make things harder for you," Karma tells her. "I _don't _want to make things harder for you, and maybe I shouldn't have told you about how I was feeling but—"

"No secrets," Amy finishes for her. "I'm glad you told me, Karma, and I … I _do _have feelings for you. I just—"

"Have a girlfriend," Karma says, and Amy sighs and nods, her heart still pounding from before.

"Yeah," she whispers, squeezing Karma's hand.

"So, what do we do?" Karma asks, and her voice is strained like maybe she wants to cry, and it stings Amy's heart.

Amy shakes her head and holds Karma's hand and wishes the world would just calm the hell down and be simple for once. "I don't know."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry about the wait on this chapter. I've been having technical difficulties as well life stuff. I'm hoping to get my internet situation fixed soon. Thank you to everyone who has favorited, followed, and reviewed this story. Thank you for the support. I hope you all enjoy! XO-Chrmdpoet**

Chapter Four

The house is quiet. The silence is so heavy that Amy feels it pressing in on her ears and on her lungs as she curls in a ball on her side and stares out into the dark of her room. She wonders how silence is sometimes so loud.

Her parents went to bed hours ago after her mom brought her up a lukewarm plate of dinner and wordlessly stroked a hand through Amy's hair and patted her cheek. The woman is making all kinds of progress while Amy, herself, feels like she is suddenly spiraling rapidly backward.

Lauren finally stopped haunting the doorway of Amy's bedroom with her narrowed eyes and rapid-fire questions about Amy's flushed cheeks and Karma's teary exit when Amy responded by jerking open the dresser drawer and throwing rolled-up balls of socks at her.

And then she was alone.

Amy tried to sleep after the house went silent, but she couldn't get her brain to quiet. Her thoughts were like bombs dropping between her ears and behind her eyes, and the war is still raging hours after.

What is she supposed to do now?

Does she still want Karma, _really _want her?

Can she even depend on Karma to be certain, to be sure, to be _ready_?

What about Reagan? Doesn't she love Reagan?

What about Liam?

What if Karma changes her mind?

What is she supposed to think? How is she supposed to feel?

How does she solve this without _anyone_ getting hurt?

Amy stares at the wall in the dark and hates that it offers her no answers, no grand epiphanies. The silence offers her no comfort. Her chest is tight, constricted and hot like her throat, and her eyes burn but no tears fall. She feels like she is on the precipice of splintering apart, and it's funny really. It's funny in the most unexpected way.

Less than a month ago, she felt the same way she does now. Her heart hurt. Her eyes burned. Her body screamed in protest of the pain ripping through every cell, because she was alone, because she wasn't loved, because she wasn't wanted in the way she desired to be and by whom she desired to be.

Now, she lays in bed, torn and aching, because she _isn't_ alone, because she _is _loved, because she _is _wanted in the way she desires to be by _two_ people she loves, two people she wants in return.

She almost laughs at the irony.

Now she doesn't know if it is a greater burden to be hurt because of love or to be the one doing the hurting. She thinks maybe both are equally disastrous, equally damaging, equally tormenting … equally fucking _hard_, and for the first time since the night she stood in front of Karma and let those words of rejection wash over her, Amy finally understands how hard it must have been for Karma too, and she feels guilty because of it.

She had spent so much time feeling angry, feeling sorry for herself, feeling betrayed and abandoned. She had spent so much time ignoring how hard it must have been for Karma in that moment too, to have someone's heart thrust into your hands, someone you love and have loved for years, only to have to hand it back. Maybe it took more courage to do that than to put your heart on the line in the first place.

Maybe Karma spent her days and nights following the epic disaster that was Amy's love confession with a pain of her own gnawing at her gut, the same pain Amy now feels devouring _her_. Maybe Karma spent her days and nights wishing, _wishing _with everything she had in her, that she _did _return Amy's feelings at the time, that she _did _feel all those same exciting, fluttering, encompassing things, the same way Amy now wishes she could love and keep them both. Karma _and_ Reagan.

She wishes she could love them equally, want them equally. She wishes she could spare them both an inevitable pain. She wishes she could spare herself.

She wishes she could run.

Her phone beeps, yanking Amy from the hellish cycle of what-ifs and maybes storming her brain. Amy startles at the sound and squints at the screen lighting up beside her bed. She blinks until her eyes adjust to the sudden brightness and then her breath catches in her throat before she lets out a long, winding groan when she sees that she has received a text message from her girlfriend.

She swipes her finger over the screen to open the message.

_Can't sleep. You spoiled me with your body. I vote for more camping trips in the future. ;)_

Amy closes her eyes and lets the dread build and bubble and soar up her throat. She chokes back the bitter bile at the back of her mouth and sucks in a long, slow breath through her nose. Her fingers hover over the screen, unmoving, and her mouth is suddenly so dry she thinks she might choke.

Part of her wants to pretend she is asleep, simply click to close the message, or maybe even delete it and act like she never received it at all. Part of her wants to write something, _anything_, other than the truth because if she can stay suspended in the in-between for the rest of her life, then that would be better than losing someone, right? That would be better than breaking someone's heart, right? Another part of her just wants to tell Reagan the truth about Karma's confession and what happened after and hope the girl understands her enough to help her figure all of this out and make the right decision. Part of her knows it won't go down that way.

_All_ of her wishes she could close her eyes and disappear.

Thoughts of the previous night with Reagan spill into her mind, but each image swirling behind her eyes is tainted now. She tries to enjoy the laughter they shared, the touching, the tickling, the kissing, the … she _tries_, but she can't. She can't enjoy the moments because thoughts of Karma keep ripping through them, shredding them into scattered pieces. She can't focus on Reagan when she can still taste Karma's kiss on her lips, when she can still feel the heat of Karma's fingers on the skin of her neck and cheek.

She swallows thickly and forces her thumbs to tap out a response, and she hates the way it looks, hates the way it makes her stomach drop. She hates the way she knows it will make Reagan's drop as well.

_We need to talk._

It seems like centuries pass as she stares at the screen, those three little dots signifying that Reagan is typing taunting her for years. She can only assume Reagan is typing out a novel-length response to her ambiguous yet obviously ominous text message, but when the dots finally disappear and are replaced by a reply, Amy is surprised to see that Reagan has responded with only a single word.

_Okay._

Amy barely has time to register the response before her phone vibrates in her hand and a melody bursts through the speakers. Her breath stills halfway down her throat and her heart drums out a rhythm hard and fast enough to threaten its confines.

Reagan is calling her.

She doesn't think. She just swipes to accept the call, and as soon as she does, she wishes she hadn't.

"Hey," she whispers into the phone, and even that single word sounds choked and guilt-ridden.

_"Hey," _Reagan replies quietly, and then there is nothing but silence, silence that stretches on for long, excruciating minutes. And then Reagan asks, _"So you needed to talk?"_

Amy's instinct is to lie, to change her mind and take back what she said in her text message. Her instinct is to run screaming from this situation, this conversation, this _everything_, but then her mind fills with thoughts of Karma again. She thinks of the whole situation with Liam, the situation that eventually led them to the conversation in jail, the conversation that had apparently gifted Karma with an epiphany and landed the red-head in Amy's bed with feelings and hormones and _feelings_. She thinks of Karma's face when the truth came out. She thinks of Karma's eyes, angry and cold, as Amy nearly dropped her friendship necklace into the toilet.

She thinks of the way a single lie, even with the best intentions, had grown into multiple lies. Those lies hurt a lot of people and nearly caused her to lose her best friend.

Pain rips through her at the thought and then the words are blurting from her lips and into the dark. "I kissed Karma."


End file.
